Mark could feel his brain clouding over, and for a second he feared that he would soon lose himself, but his thought processes all felt the same. It occured to him that they would have anyway, but if Janine had changed his mind to make him think that he had until recently been a woman and that she had paralysed him and that she was a little desperate, well, then she would be rather an odd person. Still, this did beg the question of why it was his brain had gone a little peculiar. He hoped that you wouldn't find out, but sod's law dictated quite adamantly that it'd probably become obvious in the next ten seconds or so.
"I didn't want to erase your mind...I didn't want to change your personality or anything like that, that'd be a bit weird. So...I didn't," said Janine.
"So what have you done?" Mark asks, confused.
"I just changed...your behavioral settings. See, you're going to treat me exceptionally well, now. You see, you love me, now. In the Hollywood way. You'll cook me breakfast in bed because you'll want to. Every time you kiss me it'll be as passionate as the first time. You'd die for me. I'm sorry, Mark, I really am, but...you love me."
Mark blinks, almost unable to comprehend this. As if to prove a point, Janine extends her hand across the table, and Mark is suddenly compelled by his desire to treat her like a princess to grasp her fingertips gently and kiss the back of it romantically. She looked across the table at him, her eyes betraying apologies, acceptance, and excitement. Mark raises his eyebrows at her, and she looks inquisitive.
"Shall we go back to your house?" he asked.
"It's our house now," she said, blushing.
"Of course. Then, shall we?" you say, standing up and offering her her coat, which she slips into.
"Let's," she says.